Introspective
by FluffleNeCharka
Summary: Shinji has a problem. Satoshi is naieve. Strange times were had by all. Comashipping, drabbley oneshot.


AN: This fic came to me out of nowhere. I wrote it at 3 in the morning, though, so if there's something wrong (typo, inconsistancy, etc.) please review and tell me so I can fix it.

YAOI WARNING! Also, I own nothing.

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Why?

I snap at him. I glare at him. If looks could kill, he'd be dead several times over, gone without a prayer. Why is he always so nice to me? Doesn't he have any common sense? I despise him. I talk to him like he's beneath me. I cannot think of ANYTHING else I could do to get across how much I hate him. What do I need to do, set him on fire?!

Why doesn't he ever stop? No matter what I say, he acts as if I don't mean it. No matter how many times I say something that hurts him, he gets over it and then he's there, he's by my side. I could slap him across the face and he'd still stay with me. I could do anything and he'd just get over it somehow. Why can't he accept that I am not like him and move on with his life? Pathetic idiot.

Why is my heart hurting like this? It's like a panic attack without the panic, and it's almost pleasant. It can't be medical. It happens when he's near me, when he talks to me, when he smiles. Inside it scares me. I haven't felt like this before. I don't know how to deal with it, but I will not be seen as weak. I drain this strange emotion out of my voice, my face, and somehow I think he knows. I keep all these weird feelings deep down so that I don't end up all soft and 'hi, my heart's on my sleeve!' like him.

Why are my knees shaking so hard? Why is he standing so close? My body is brushing against his and suddenly I feel hot all over. I know he knows what's wrong with me. He can see it in my eyes and I can see it written across his face. Why won't he just explain it to me? I know he knows what this is...

My knees are shaking worse now, I can't stand, I can't run away, I'm scared. Against my will, I reach out. My hands clutch his arm and he looks at me in alarm. Immediately I regret touching him. I want to pull away. I don't. My eyes can't meet his. I'm trapped. It wouldn't be right, part of me says, and so I look at the floor. His eyes grow wide with concern because Satoshi. Is. A. Bleeding. Heart.

"Shinji, are you okay?" The hotel room spins and I hold onto him, rest against him. Why did he and that girl have to book the same hotel as me? "Shinji, what's wrong?"

His arms wrap around me. Suddenly the room is not spinning. It's been so long since I had physical contact like this, alone, intimate. My knees don't shake anymore. I'm cured, I'm okay, I'm alive. But I don't understand this at all. This feeling has never occured in me before, ever. What is it? Why don't I understand? I'm smart, I know I should get this. My mind isn't functioning right. this shouldn't be happening. So why am I letting it happen, then? Gently, he reaches a hand up to rest against my back, while the other presses against my waist. It's so warm and comforting. I quit thinking and close my eyes, pressing against him. He smells of the outdoors, but I'm used to that smell by now.

Then a terrible urge goes through me, like an electric shock, and before I know what's happened I've hit him. Again. Then I've got him pinned under me. I can't breathe. This isn't right, it's wrong, but I feel so wonderful all over. In control and in power. I love this. He looks at me with hurt in his eyes, pain. He doesn't understand.

And for the first time in my life, I feel guilty.

"There's something wrong with me," I say in a voice not like mine, an apologetic, humble voice. "I'm so sorry, Satoshi."

Then I undo my apology. I slam my knee between his legs, slap him across the face and, in an action that even surprises me, I start to choke him. Why am I like this? This is insanity. Why isn't he fighting back? That's certain death. I love how he looks right now. I control whether he lives or dies. I control every bruise on his body. He's my subordinate. The word echoes through my mind, a wonderful cussword. Subordinate and weak beneath me, he gasps as I let his throat go. All my life I've been striving to be in power. Is this really all it took? I feel strong. Why didn't I try this sooner? As he gasps, I stand and survey my work. He isn't damaged much, just shocked and kind of turned on. I didn't hurt that much, really. It was just enough to make me feel wonderful. I can feel power in my every movement now. I could easily destroy him right now or take him to the edge of bliss.

The poor boy is scared when I come to my senses. I reach down, pick him up, hold him against me. Oh, dear god, what have I done? I can't believe the damage I've dealt him.

"I have a problem," I tell him softly. "I know I do, but I'm not weak. I'll get help, you'll see."

He looks at me, a guilty blush spreading over his features. He enjoyed me beating him, and he smiles like he's forgiven me yet again. "Why get help when you have me?"

I smile before backhanding him. "Why, indeed?"


End file.
